


With A Smile

by Cascaper



Series: In Kind [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, for all the roegadames out there, in which I- greatly daring- introduce one of my actual characters, ripped and gorgeous, the tag has a parentheses s but really tis only the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 18:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16877838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cascaper/pseuds/Cascaper
Summary: In which snowstorms are a girl's best friend- that girl being one Thosinund Haldkhanwyn, of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.





	With A Smile

“Okay, okay,” Thosinund says. “I have one.”

Haurchefant inclines his head. “Do tell.”

It’s been a long day; the snowstorm that loomed on the horizon for the past week has finally hit. Luckily, the folk of Camp Dragonhead are well prepared for such eventualities: just about every room in the fortress is stocked with woodpiles, blankets, preserved food, some of a carefully tended supply of medicines, and fresh water.

Much of which has come in handy now that Thosinund finds herself holed up in the intercessory in front of the fire, teaching children’s games to a certain lord.

(In all the time she’s known him, she still hasn’t decided what to make of the man as a whole. But by now, she has settled on a few points: he is charming without calculation, loyal without blindness, kind without fail… and rather attractive.)

“It’s called Cuckoo,” she explains. “When it’s your turn, you have to say three things about yourself, two true and one false. Then the other person guesses which is which.”

He gives a slow nod, considering. “I see… Does it matter what sort of things one says?”

She waves a hand. “Nah, it could be anything. Trivial stuff. You don’t even have to make them sound believable.”

“Oho,” he says, and his eyes take on a glint. “For instance… ‘my desk is empty.’”

“Right,” Thosi snickers, remembering the stacks of paperwork covering said desk. “See, you got it. Want to go first?”

Haurchefant grins and makes a sort of bow from his seat. “Nay, milady. After you.”

How is she supposed to think when he’s grinning like that? She drums her fingers on her knee, trying to herd her brain into action. “Okay, er… I’m seven fulm nothing in my stocking feet… I’ve got a splinter in my left hand… and I hate hot chocolate.”

His look of surprise is too funny. “You what? But we’ve had it so many times- and you never said anything? Truly, your patience knows no…” He trails off upon noticing her growing smile. “Ah. Then that one must be the falsehood.”

“Yep,” she says. “That’s the cuckoo. Though I didn’t know you’d be so alarmed,” she teases.

“Oh, think naught of it,” he says. “More importantly, where is this splinter? I shan’t be able to carry on the game knowing it is still there.”

It’s only a little one, but she lets him remove it- and welcomes the incidental sensation of his hands on hers.  _Excuses, excuses, Thosi._ When he settles back into his place on the blanketed floor, she tells herself firmly that he is  _not_ an ilm or so closer than he had been before. Even if he is, what of it?

“Your turn now,” she tells him.

A moment’s pause. “All right. I am dreadful with paperwork, I am the all-time champion of the Dragonhead Snowball Tournament…”

“The what now?” Thosinund blurts.

“Snowball Tournament. And I find this an intriguing yet difficult game.”

“Hm…” She quirks a brow. “I call cuckoo on the tournament.”

“Tis true,” Haurchefant sighs. “I was but a distant third.”

Thosi shakes her head, braids swinging. “No, I mean on its happening at all. How have I never heard about this?” She places a hand to her heart in mock indignation. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are!” Haurchefant protests. “Never doubt it.”

“So you admit that was the cuckoo?” Thosi folds her arms.

He sighs again, more deeply. “It was. ‘Twas a diversion some of the men proposed with which to celebrate the end of a snowstorm much like this one, some years back. I was all for it, but by the time we’d gotten the fortress dug out of the drifts, other matters had cropped up to claim our attention.”

“Scaled, winged matters?”

“Indeed.”

“Then clearly my next mission must be to marshal this tournament into happening as soon as possible.” She gives him a solemn nod, even as his face starts to glow with excitement, making her heart wobble in her chest.

“My hero!” he exclaims.

“I try,” she mumbles. Clears her throat. “Right, er. My turn.”

While she thinks, Haurchefant fetches some water and a tankard, carefully filling the latter.  _Wait, only one?_

“We must make it last,” he answers her questioning look.

As the game goes on, Thosi cannot fail to notice that Haurchefant is steering it ever so gently toward the personal. She learns much she never would have thought to ask: for example, that he met Francel when he was twelve and the latter six. That he used to train with a stick for a sword. That he once befriended a stray cat by saving it from a merchant’s boot in the Jeweled Crozier, and brought it tidbits to eat til it grew healthy and strong.

So she offers facts in kind: that she’s the youngest child. That she started as an adventurer at nineteen. That she ended one memorable argument between her brothers by holding one of them over her head til they both calmed down. It’s getting so the game is hardly being played any more, as the cuckoos have largely become throw-away nonsense, but still they go on.

Time is losing meaning. It could be midnight or midday outside for all they know—in here there is only firelight, and their voices, against the muffled howls of the wind. With every truth they trade Thosinund feels closer to him, and her heart cries out for more… until, no longer able to ignore the tugging in her chest, she gets a wild idea.

“I am twenty-three years old,” she says, as her pulse rockets. “I laugh in the face of snow and ice. And I’ve never been kissed.”

In the ensuing silence, she counts slowly to five before she looks up to see his reaction.

Haurchefant’s face has gone completely still, but she can see incredulity writ large in his eyes. He wets his lips, then speaks: “Never..? Cuckoo, every word of it.”

She shakes her head.

“Then I think you have just won this game,” he says, half-laughing. “For in the wake of such a revelation, naught else can possibly come to mind.”

Thosi exhales. “Is it truly so incredible?”

He spreads his hands. “In a word? Yes. Had none of your agemates eyes in their heads, when you were growing up?”

“Well…” She shrugs. “You’d have to ask them.”

“Were it possible, I would saddle a bird this moment and set off to do so.” He gives a low whistle. “Truly, folk are blind to the wonders in their midst.”

She cannot help a little smile at that. “Oh, don’t blame them. Even before I left home, all I could think of was learning to fight—so I did. Then I met the Scions, and that was that.”

“Ah!” Now his own smile is back in force. “That makes more sense. You wished to be a protector, even then. A hero through and through!”

Part of her wants to correct him, but he’s not completely wrong. “As you like,” she manages.

He beams a moment more; then a new thought strikes him. “Does it not grow lonesome? From what I understand, you hardly have a moment’s rest these days.”

“I am having one now,” she points out.

“True, but that is only because the elements enforced it.”

Thosi rolls her eyes. “Fair enough. But as to your question…” She runs her fingers absently across her lower lip, considering. The Scions are busy as a rule, especially since the move to Revenant’s Toll; there’s always something to do—to fetch, to fight, to save.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve had the time for that either,” she finally says. “Up to and including today.”

“What do you mean?”

_Deep breath_. “I’m here with you, aren’t I? So I couldn’t be. Lonely, I mean.”

For a few tense seconds, she wonders whether she should have said that. Then she sees his expression: the stillness is back, but there’s a smile playing at the edges of his mouth, and his eyes… touched, tender, the pupils gone soft.

His voice, when next he speaks, is softer still. “Thank you, Thosinund. That means… more than you know.”

“So do you,” she hears herself say.

The howling wind sounds again, closer; she swears she can hear words in its wail.  _Noooow. Say it nooooow._

Thosi swallows. “Um… Haurchefant?”

“Yes?”  _By the Keeper, he’s blushing._ She hadn’t thought him capable of such.

“Do- would you- do you w…” Her hands feel suddenly cold; she twists them round each other, but they will not warm, so she settles for squeezing tight. “Do you want to kiss me?”

For an instant, she could swear Haurchefant has stopped breathing.

“Very much,” he whispers, hoarsely.

Thosinund’s pulse stutters, once, twice, three times. “Then come and kiss me,” she whispers back.

When he doesn’t move right away, she unclenches her fingers and opens her arms by way of encouragement. Slowly, deliberately, he comes to her offered embrace; he cups her face in trembling palms, and leans in.

His lips on hers are like nothing Thosi has ever known. He kisses her long and deep, and the joy of it comes swooping up from her stomach, into her throat, leaving her giddy. She slides her hands up into his hair, feeling the warmth return to them as she pulls him closer. How she lived before this, she has no idea. She only knows he must not stop for long if she wants to continue living.

Eventually he does break away, but he does not go far- he leans his forehead against hers, his breathing shallow. His arms are draped round her neck, and he’s half sitting in her lap; few finer sensations, she thinks, are to be had in this world.

Then Haurchefant sighs, blissful. “Ah, of course… utterly splendid.”

Words are somewhat difficult just now, but Thosi makes herself form them anyway. “What is?”

“Kissing you,” he says. “Utterly, completely, emphatically splendid.”

Thosi emits a tiny squeak and clutches him to her—then lets go in alarm when he yelps. “Oh! Was that too hard? I’m sorry-”

“No,” he gasps, “never! Fear not, dear heart. I was merely surprised.”

“Are you sure?” She is wary now. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Thosinund,” and she shivers to hear the way he says her name, “Thosinund, look at me.” He waits til her eyes meet his. “Firstly, know that I count each moment spent in your presence as a gift. Secondly, should you leave a few bruises—even were you to break every bone in my body—‘twould be no more than the will of my Fury, and I would die with a smile on my lips. So I beg you, love, do not hold back.” A beat. “All right?”

Thosi’s heart is so full that she thinks she might burst. “All right… but not at once. I’ll work up to it.” He looks bemused at that; she smiles. “Well, there’s no telling when we’ll have a chance like this again, is there? We must make it last." 

**Author's Note:**

> Another export from tumblr (rhymingteelookatme, specifically)- and one which marks the first time I've ever actually written about a character of mine in public. Hence my nervousness.


End file.
